


The One Who Stayed

by FaultyParagon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Drama & Romance, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Grief/Mourning, Heartache, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Reunions, Romance, Team as Family, Tragedy, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-28 23:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaultyParagon/pseuds/FaultyParagon
Summary: In which we witness the tragedy of the reunion at Hammerhead, until the fall of the World of Ruin, all from Prompto's perspective. He's always loved Noctis the most.Set during Chapter 14 through to the end of the game.





	1. Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a fic I wrote almost two years ago, originally posted on my FF.net. The original didn't receive a lot of engagement, so I'm hoping to test the FFXV fandom waters on AO3. 
> 
> Despite the long time since first writing it, it's still one of the most personally impactful stories I've ever written. Do I cry when I reread it? Maybe. I hope you enjoy it!

_-They meet up at Hammerhead. Prompto is lonely.-_

It was almost as if he hadn't breathed in hours, not since he had received that phone call.

Prompto's entire body shook from the anticipation, curled up in a booth in Taka's diner. Gladio and Ignis were in similar states, hunched over, the sound of tinny jazz from the small record player in the back not nearly enough to fill the tangible silence choking the room.

Finally, the sound of an engine rumbling into the Hammerhead lot caught their attention, and the three men were out the door by the time that the keys were removed. Gladio walked towards the car without hesitation, with Ignis just crossing his arms and waiting to be addressed. But Prompto… Prompto lingered back, holding his breath, clutching his chest to calm his heart which was currently trying to bust out of his ribcage with how fast it was beating.

The passenger side opened, the rider hopping out stiffly. As they strolled into the light, Prompto almost screamed; that figure, shining in the headlights of Talcott's truck, was _his_.

"Hey," his gruff voice called.

Prompto nearly collapsed from the sound.

Standing before them, with all the ease in the world, was a familiar figure. He was dressed in the same clothes as Prompto remembered- those cropped pants and combat boots, paired with a tighter t-shirt that matched that dark, dark hair. But the face accompanying the outfit was almost foreign; surrounded by long, almost unruly bangs and a beard that reminded him too much of King Regis, the dirty face was shadowed, haggard. It was the face of a grown man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, who had both slept too long and too little, who had been forced down a road to which he had finally resigned himself.

It was the face of a man who had filled Prompto's dreams for _years._

Prompto grabbed Ignis' arm to alert him of the situation, pulling lightly as Gladio stepped forward. "Hey? That's all you have to say for yourself, after all this time?" the large man growled, disbelief evident in his tone.

However, no matter how different he looked, the light chuckle which escaped the newcomer's lips was enough to set Prompto on fire. He shivered, burying that emotion deep within himself before throwing on the widest, cheeriest grin he could muster. "Noct! It's you! It's really you!" The blond patted Noctis' arm and circled around the man, examining all of the newfound creases and wrinkles in his tired expression.

The other man raised an eyebrow. "It is? I hadn't realized," Noctis quipped, and Prompto nearly cried. _It's him. It's really him._

"Well, well. You kept us waiting." Ignis' voice was calm, even- but the small quirk of his lips showed that he, too, recognized the voice of the man before them.

Noctis walked up to his old mentor, clasping his shoulder. "Not like I wanted to." Looking back at the other two, he muttered, "We've got catching up to do."

The other two grunted their assent, turning back towards the diner. It took Prompto a second to catch up with them, however, as he paused and caught his breath. Looking at Noctis from behind as the three others walked towards the door, Prompto had to bite his lip to stop himself from openly weeping. Noctis was different- his shoulders had filled out, his back was wider. His hair swayed in the light breeze, lifting off his neck to reveal pale skin occasionally, before hiding it again. His steps were weary, but sure; fists clenched tight, gaze stern, brow furrowed and set.

Umbra trotted into the light and after Noctis, pausing briefly to lick Prompto's hand, shaking him out of his stupor. The blond started, shook his head, scratched Umbra behind the ears, and began walking after the other three with shaking breaths.

He was Noctis, but he wasn't _his _Noctis. And that scared Prompto, more than anything.


	2. Thankful

_-He follows Noctis wherever he goes. "I'm not leaving, you know." Noctis doesn't reply. Prompto is thankful.-_

The details of their plan were simple, but sure; sneak into Insomnia, crash the party, and take down Ardyn. Put into those three simple steps, it seemed like nothing but a far-off game to Prompto, nothing more than a game of King's Knight.

But this was no game, and Noctis was not a pawn to be _sacrificed. _

"We're getting in, killing Ardyn, and getting out," Gladio rumbled, pushing his chair away from the table. "That's all there is to it."

"Let's hope that's all there is," Ignis responded coolly. "There's more than just the dear old Chancellor behind those walls."

"As long as we're all safe," Prompto added in, hasty, nervousness evident. The other two nodded solemnly before standing up and dispersing, happy to wait until Noctis was ready.

Prompto watched them go, shivering in their wake. The two men walking away from them had always been Prompto's mentors, his guides, his role models- and yet, now that the end was finally near, it was as if they didn't have any words or affiliation with each other if Noctis wasn't there.

Had their bonds been so weak that they had crumpled completely without Noctis?

Noctis was slower to respond to Prompto's assertion. The royal, after cleaning himself up a bit, looked much fresher, much more like what Prompto had _expected _his best friend to grow up to be. However, his thick brows were furrowed, fists gripping his trousers tightly. The uncertainty was evident in his eyes.

Prompto leaned down, looking up into Noctis' face. "Hey… you heard me, right? We're all gonna be safe."

The other broke out of his thoughts, nodding. "Yeah. I'll make sure you're all okay."

Prompto shivered, fear growing in his already terrified heart. _And we'll protect you… won't we, Noct?_

He didn't know.

Noctis stood, slow and steady- still a little unused to this newer, yet older body moving around in the realm of mortals. Prompto was immediately at his side, hand on his elbow and back, supporting him.

Noctis laughed hoarsely. "I'm not _broken, _Prompto, just sore. It's fine."

"Yeah, but still-" Prompto continued, not letting go of his friend.

After a few steps, Noctis spun on his heel to face him, frustration emanating from every pore. "I'd like to take a weapons inventory, Prompto," he said simply, not hiding his annoyance at Prompto's trailing steps. "You can let go of me now-"

"I'm not leaving your side, Noctis," Prompto murmured, keeping his tone light, but straining to let his eyes convey the sheer depth of fear in his heart. He tightened his grip on Noctis' elbow, just a little- just enough. "Give me this, at least."

Noctis stared into his eyes, and after a moment, found what he was looking for. The gaze left Prompto weak in the knees.

"Okay."

They walked slowly over to the armoury truck, sorting through the best weapons to take which wouldn't interfere with the summoning of the Armiger. Prompto's hand, sweaty, clammy, tense, never parted with Noctis' elbow. Noctis didn't comment on it, and neither did the sellers, for they knew Prompto, and they knew what this moment meant to him.

It was like everyone was pitying him. Prompto didn't allow himself to acknowledge _why._


	3. Envious

_-Umbra curls up by his side. He's welcome there. Prompto is envious.-_

"Thanks, Specs," Noctis murmured, slowly spooning delicious broth into his mouth.

Ignis smiled wryly, nodding in satisfaction as he listened to the spoons hitting the bowls. "Not very gentlemanly, all of you," he commented, "but I suppose I can forgive your lack of manners."

"You'd think all that time up with the Astrals would teach him some etiquette," Gladio quipped, sending the group into a small fit of chuckles as they continued to eat.

Prompto, seated in his camping chair, shifted uncomfortably. Something in this situation was wrong, so wrong- as he watched the light of the fire dance on everyone's faces, he could sense the sheer tension in the air.

Ever since leaving Hammerhead and setting up camp halfway between the station and the gates of their destination, the group had barely talked. It was as if all the life, the energy, which used to resound in their little family had been sucked out of them. It was as if the prospect of the journey ahead had killed their joy.

Prompto wanted to weep, thinking of it. He had been so excited to reunite with everyone. They were his family.

Yet, there they were, eating in relative silence. Only the occasional quip was thrown in, but the lightness never lasted long, and all four men were antsy, uncomfortable, sitting in the chairs they should have all been accustomed to from long, long ago. Prompto crossed his legs, leaned back, and focused on the food, trying to blink the tears away from his eyes.

It was Noctis who finally broke the silence, once the plates and utensils were packed nicely away. He leaned down to his right, scratching a tired Umbra laying by his feet behind the ears, then murmured, "The four of us around a campfire. How long's it been?"

Iggy hummed thoughtfully after a moment. "…An eternity."

Silence. The campfire crackled between them all, filling the empty air with the sounds of snapping wood. Prompto was thankful- it drowned out the distant screams of daemons in the night. Mostly.

Noctis sighed. "So, yeah." He paused, opened his mouth, only to close it a moment later. His expression was twisted, mouth opening and closing repeatedly, but the words didn't come. "I, um…"

Gladio stared straight ahead, ignoring the obvious signs of distress from the younger. "Out with it."

Prompto raised his eyes to look at Noctis, to look at the man hunched over in his chair. He looked so… sad. His shoulders were so low, Prompto could almost see the weight of the burden his friend carried upon them. It hurt.

Noctis stared at the ground intensely, just breathing. The fire crackled on. He looked up. "I just…" He bit his lip, clenched his fist on his knee, and exhaled heavily. In a whisper, he admitted, "Dammit. The hell is this so hard?"

The weakness in his voice was like a stab to the gut, and Prompto almost vomited into the fire.

Noctis laced his fingers together, looking back down at his feet.

The fire crackled. An ember popped up in Prompto's field of vision, and his eyes immediately followed its graceful arc through the sky, burning bright… until it fizzled, faded into obscurity.

"So I… I've made my peace." Noctis glanced over everyone, taking in each person's face briefly before averting his eyes. "Still… knowing this is it…"

Prompto started shaking, a feeling of dread quickly building in his stomach. _No, no, please don't-_

"And seeing you here now…" Noctis continued, voice trembling. Prompto watched him, biting his lips in fear and frustration, feeling his heart being stabbed continually at the sight- Noctis, eyes reddening, blinking back tears. The king scrunched his face together, just like he had when Regis died, when Luna left, when Ignis got hurt-

Prompto had never wanted to see that look of sorrow again.

A single tear dripped down his pale, gaunt cheek. Noctis didn't even take notice of it, whispering, "It's more than I can take." His voice broke, high and young and vulnerable. A look of guilt flashed over his face, and the man looked away, hanging his head to hide his shame.

At his silence, the air seemed to still. Ignis shifted, gazing straight ahead into the darkness, but his lips were pursed. Gladio wiped a tear of his own, trying to hide a sniffle from the emotion.

Prompto leaned forward, mimicking Noctis' pose- elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced, gazing into the fire to dry his tears. "Yeah," he murmured, voice hoarse from holding back _screams _of anguish. "You're damn right it is."

Gladio leaned back, looking above at the eternally cloudy sky. A small smirk pulled his lips. "Huh. You spit it out." But there was no animosity there. All that remained was a quiet tiredness, a weariness which everyone in the group felt hanging over themselves.

Silence. A log popped, shooting embers into the sky.

Finally, Ignis stated, "It's good to hear." Prompto's heart twinged, hearing a sigh from the elder- he couldn't even imagine how the other two were feeling at that moment.

They had seen Noctis grow up, after all.

Suddenly, the royal stood up, grabbing everyone's attention. One by one, he brought his gaze to meet everyone else, eyes filled with resolve.

When their eyes met, Prompto tried his best to quell his tears. The best he managed to pull off was a furrowing of his brows, but nothing spilled from his eyes, and for that, he was grateful.

Noctis hiccupped quietly. "Well," he laughed, his voice hitching from the sobs lodged in his throat, "what can I say?"

Prompto hung his head, covering his face with his hands.

Noctis smiled sadly, fondly. "You guys… are the best."

Everyone sat there, silent- nothing stirred, except for the crackle and snap of the fire, the distant screams of nightmares in the distance, and the squeaks from camping chairs as the four men shifted.

Prompto was thankful everyone else was there. With all of them sobbing quietly as well, he didn't feel like that much of a burden when he let his tears fall into his lap, never to be wiped away by the hand he's always wanted to hold.


	4. Frightened

_-Noctis looks at him like Luna looked at Noctis. Prompto is frightened.-_

With the boundaries of the haven spell extending barely beyond their camp, Noctis didn't have much room to wander off after the four decided to turn in for the night. He slowly stood, swaying gently, turning away from the other three wordlessly and heading off to sit at the edge of the camp.

Prompto followed him without hesitation. Gladio and Ignis saw him, Prompto knew- but they just remained silent, securing their belongings and heading to the tent.

The blond jogged up to where Noctis sat, sliding down beside him and hanging his feet off the ledge of the stone they sat upon. Far beyond them, the clouds and pollution shadowed the sky, the horizon line no longer distinguishable amidst the darkness. The only pinpricks of light were far off in the distance; red and purple hues, pacing endlessly. Daemons.

Noctis sighed, weariness palpable in that one breath.

Prompto frowned concernedly. "Hey, Noct- are you okay?"

The other man didn't respond, eyes red and puffy and glazed over as he looked forward into the distance. After a few moments, however, he whispered, "I didn't think this would be how it all ended."

The words stilled Prompto's heart, chilling him to the core. "_Ended?_ Nothing's ending, Noct- this'll be a new beginning!" He tried to keep his voice bright and cheery, but they could both hear how hoarse his voice was.

He had cried his throat raw as the campfire burned, after all.

Noctis sighed again, just as heavy-hearted as before. "Don't make me repeat myself, Prompto. I-" his voiced hitched momentarily, and he had to pause, breathing deeply until he could control himself again. "I love you guys. I wouldn't lie to you."

A wash of despair flooded over Prompto's senses, his body turning cold, muscles tensing, a chill running across his skin. His breath sped up slightly, staring at his knees, processing the words in his mind.

_You wouldn't lie to us. But that means…_

"Prompto?" Noctis finally murmured, looking up into Prompto's downturned face. His eyes widened in alarm, seeing the sheer distress in the blond's expression. "Prompto, what-"

"Don't say it." His voice shook, but Prompto spat the words out evenly, tiredly. "Don't say it, please."

It was only when Noctis' hand, callused and rough and _so _warm, reached out and grabbed one of Prompto's, when Prompto realized that his tears were falling again. They dripped endlessly down his cheeks, off his chin, onto the back of Noctis' hand. Startled, he tried to reach up and wipe them away and apologize; but his words died in his throat, strangled by a sob which erupted. Tears were blurring his vision again, but this time, he didn't bother stifling the screams of anguish that wanted to escape him. Instead, he simply clutched onto Noctis' hand upon his, squeezing as hard as he could.

"Prompto, hey-" Noctis started, but he cut himself off, watching Prompto whimper next to him. Prompto's face flushed, embarrassment and fear turning him bright red to the tips of his ears. It was humiliating, how time hadn't changed him- _I wanted to look cool when Noct came back, dammit-_

Rather than pulling away, Noctis simply let Prompto squeeze his hand, an odd look on his face. Prompto looked up curiously after calming down a little bit, trying to gauge why the other had allowed the abuse onto his poor fingers.

But when he saw Noctis' eyes, he broke again, and his sobs resumed- this time, he buried his face into Noctis' shoulder, and let go of all the sorrow he'd kept bottled up for the last decade.

Those dark grey eyes looked at him with empathy, regret, frustration. Loss.

A sense of distance.

Understanding.

Prompto hated it so, so much.

After the Revelation of the Hydrean, back when the world had just flipped upside down and he had been left alone with his self-hatred while Noctis and Gladio and Ignis were locked in conflict, Prompto had spoken to Noctis. About his feelings, his grief- about Luna.

The way he had described the dream that Luna shared with him, floating in the water- her eyes, so full of emotion, had been enough to bring Noctis (his brave, brave friend, his everything) to tears- it all had given Prompto chills. Broken his heart.

He finally understood exactly where Noctis' cries had come from. Noctis was looking at him the same way, with a gaze of longing, of distance.

Of loneliness.

Prompto cried harder, clutching Noctis.


	5. Captivated

_-He looks like a king. Prompto is captivated.-_

The suit was snug across his shoulders, stretching taut over muscle he never used to have back when the suit had been fitted for him. He shrugged, testing his reach back to the pistols hooked at his waist. However, a cold sweat quickly broke over his forehead- his guns weren't there.

He froze, scratching at his waist, his lack of a holster. After years of helping control the daemon population around Hammerhead, not having his guns was incredibly uncomfortable- how could he have left them somewhere?

Just as quickly as his panic began, it subsided again. Shaking, he raised his hands and snapped his fingers, watching the weapons materialize from thin air. The heaviness of the grip warping into his palms was familiar, comforting, and with another snap of his fingers, the weapons (linked back up with the Lucian king at last) were gone.

Prompto flexed his fingers at the sudden vanishing of the guns, the only remnants of the weapon flecks of light in his empty grasp.

He stood there momentarily, lost in thought; however, a light touch upon his shoulder from behind startled him out of his trance. He spun around, letting out a quick sigh of relief when Ignis raised a brow at him. "Don't scare me like that, Iggy," he whined lightly, catching his breath.

"Were you looking for your weapons?" Gladio called, watching the two from beside the dying campfire he was idly stoking.

Prompto grinned sheepishly. "I'm not used to seeing them again, okay?"

Gladio laughed from his chair. "I feel you. Being linked to the Crystal finally means something again, now that Noct is back."

Ignis nodded sagely, and the three men settled into their seats, watching the flickering embers light up the dark dawn. Even in the dimness, Prompto could see that their eyes were just as swollen as his.

A few moments passed in relative silence until the tent flap opened and Noctis stepped out, and Prompto lost all sense of reason.

He looked magnificent.

The fading light reflected off the golden accoutrements upon his tunic, each pocket and crease neatly pressed. He shook his head, tossing dark hair out of determined eyes, then turned to the group, squaring off against everyone with shoulders too broad, too strong, to fit in the tunic meant for the boy.

"It looks a little tight on you," Gladio quipped as the three men stood up.

"It definitely wasn't meant for me _now_," Noctis acknowledged dryly.

Ignis laughed, beckoning the younger over. Noctis obeyed, allowing the elder to silently examine each seam and clasp upon the uniform with deft fingers. At last, with his inspection complete, he asked, "Are you movements impeded?"

The royal laughed at that, the sound of his husky voice brightening the air a bit. "No, _mom, _I'm fine."

A pause. "As I always say-"

The other three looked at each other, responding simultaneously, "Mum's the word."

They all laughed. It felt _right._

But after they had settled down, albeit in a much brighter atmosphere, Prompto let out a shuddering sigh. Never had he seen Noctis looking so strong, so proud, so regal. He strolled up to the other man, timidly raising his eyes, biting his lip nervously.

Noctis smiled, nothing but patience in his softened expression. Waiting.

Prompto finally whispered, "You look pretty good, buddy." The words felt strange, unfamiliar upon his tongue- did he even have the right to speak to Noctis so casually anymore?

Noctis smiled wider, eyes creasing. He reached out and clasped the other's shoulder, squeezing gently. "And you said this wouldn't suit me back when we got these made."

Shocked, the blond replied, "You remember that?"

Cuffing his ear playfully, Noctis joked, "Why would I ever forget my best friend telling me I'll look bad in my first real uniform? The one I'm wearing to my own wedding, for that matter?"

_Best friend. _The words sent a shiver, following by a profound wave of weary sadness, over Prompto. "Y'know I didn't mean it."

"I know." His tone was soft, and it almost broke the blond.

He took a step back to join the others, looking at Noctis squarely. His throat seized. Noctis truly looked like a _king. _Something about seeing him stand firm made his stomach constrict, heart bursting.

He couldn't have been prouder.


	6. Unprepared

_-The thought of loss makes him tremble. Prompto is unprepared.-_

The king, in his raiments at last, walked proudly through the citadel, his faithful Crownsguard never hesitating at his side. With every step towards the castle, there was another daemon to slay, another enemy to cut down- another reminder that their home had been left to ruin for too long.

Despite how quickly he moved, bullets flashing like quicksilver, Prompto's mind was anywhere but the monsters themselves. Instead, all he could focus upon was the dreary surrounding. Every fallen sign and shattered window caught his eye, pulling him away from the fight, even when his guns remained.

This place used to be their _home._

Although the elder two remained silent, focused upon coming up with tactics to take down each new enemy wave, it was clear that Noctis was just as caught up in his memories as Prompto was. His eyes, like the blond's, searched for hints of their old lives in every corner of the street, awaiting the people he remembered to always be there, living their lives peacefully until the attack.

But every so often, Noctis' eyes flashed forward, looking at the majestic spires rising in the distance, marking the old chamber of the Crystal- marking his father's throne.

_His _throne.

His eyes would mist over, and he'd turn his attention back to another enemy, but his gaze would always return to the castle. And every time, Prompto had to fight down the desire to drop his weapons and just hold his friend. Instead, he focused upon distracting the dark-haired man each time his eyes drifted to beyond the horizon.

"Isn't that the arcade we always used to visit?"

The sign was nowhere to be seen, the store itself decrepit, tattered. But Noctis smiled, whiskers raising as he took a moment to reminisce. He nonchalantly sliced a daemon in two, ignoring the pained screams of the creature, as he examined the storefront. "Yeah. I always used to own you _so _hard on that one zombie shooter- what was it called again?"

Prompto giggled weakly, shrugging. He fired off two rounds between a daemon swordsman's eyes, sending it toppling to the floor. "Y'know, dude, I can't even remember."

Noctis laughed quietly, flicking blood off his blade. "It doesn't matter what it was." His smile grew fond, eyes creasing in that way that Prompto had always adored. "Going there with you in high school- those times were some of the best I ever had."

Prompto stepped back, spluttering. "Wha- dude, how in the world would going to an arcade with _me _be that good? C'mon, don't exaggerate."

The corners of his eyes were still creased, smile growing nostalgic as he turned his gaze at last on Prompto. "Don't say that. You're my best friend."

With that simple admission, he stood and motioned to Gladio and Ignis to continue onwards. The others nodded, and the three of them began to walk away, leaving Prompto a beat behind- the blond had to blink the tears out of his eyes from the sudden rush of emotion that hit him as he was suddenly transported somewhere else in his mind's eye.

_The street was bright, sky blue, laughter filling the air. Vendors propped their doors open, playing music loud to invite potential customers, and the regular hustle and bustle of the city made it feel vibrant, alive. School was out- children ran across the street, their sweet voices ringing as they played. _

_Noctis and Prompto walked down the street, still in their school uniforms, bags slung against their backs. The two boys sweat lightly under their blazers- "Why can't we just switch to summer uniforms yet?" "Shut up, Prompto!" "_You _shut up!" _

_And then they tussled lightly in the streets until a nearby shopkeep scolded them, and they paused in their fight, looked at each other blankly, and burst into laughter, slinging their arms over each other's shoulders._

And just as suddenly, he was back. Prompto watched Noctis walked forward, summoning his sword once more to strike down the enemies in his path, brandishing it bravely.

_Those times with you were the best, too, Noct. Please say we'll make more memories like that._

He knew it was a fool's hope.

The blond shuddering, quickly jogging to keep up with the group, firing headshots into some creeping daemons as they lurked in the shadows.

"Everything alright, Prompto?" Gladio asked, raising a brow at the blond's shaking breaths.

He nodded. "Yeah," he responded emptily, barely even registering the rounds he punched into a nearby warlock. "Everything's fine." But his eyes were transfixed upon Noctis, whose eyes were on the battle, on the street- back up to the castle.

If he was right, Prompto would have to say goodbye again the moment they brought Noctis there. His lip trembled in time with Noctis' shaking shoulders as the king shuddered and continued fighting against the bloody onslaught, and as he himself joined the fray.

_Please don't take him away again. _A tear rolled down his cheek, and he squeezed his eyes shut, allowing his body to react to attacks with muscle memory, gun raised with practiced precision. _I just got him back, please, there are so many things I wanted to say, I- _

He wasn't ready.


	7. Proud

_-The words echo over the square. The sun is rising. Prompto is proud.-_

They stood there, hands over their hearts and heads bowed, watching Noctis' back walk up those tall, imposing steps into the ruins of the castle. His words- his last words, _god, please don't let those be his last words, please- _hung in the air, shutting out the rain, the numerous howls and screams from the daemons slowly crawling into the square behind them. The three men paid the monsters no mind- each was still watching, transfixed upon the echoing steps of their _king. _

"_Walk tall… my friends."_

And as his figure disappeared from sight, it was like a dam had broken in Prompto's heart. All the tears, all the sadness- everything rushed out, eyes flooding as his hands whipped to his pistols and he began to pump round after round into the shapeless daemons which blocked his path. He could vaguely hear Ignis and Gladio calling out commands, with Ignis marking their targets and Gladio clearing a path.

But Prompto didn't care. His trigger fingers were going on autopilot, his hands deftly reloading when needed, aim calmly hitting the right targets despite how blurry his vision was. The hollowness of his chest was too powerful, threatening to rip him apart, to blow up and leave him as nothing but the empty shell he now was.

He had only been by Noctis' side for 24 hours before saying goodbye again.

It was too much for him to bear.

And so Prompto fought. He tuned into the elders' commands, following their orders and fighting strategically. The adrenaline pumping through his veins wasn't enough to dampen the ache from the long battle, the sting of rain against his burns from the Infernian. As he whipped his twin barrels around, sending silver flying through the air and into the daemon hordes, the exhaustion threatened to take him.

And he almost let it. What was left to fight for?

But suddenly, it was as if all the daemons had simultaneously begun to retreat. They instantly fell out of their ranks, hissing and screeching in pain despite the fact that the three men had stopped their assault.

"What in the world is happening?" Ignis murmured, confused.

With wide eyes, Prompto turned his gaze up towards the east, watching as the daemons shrivelled into nothingness, and a beam of light burst upwards into the sky from the throne room. It shone an electric blue, illuminating the area with crackling fire, reaching towards the heavens… and clearing the sky.

And the beam was gone, just as quick as it began. In its stead was the gentlest of lights, peeking over the distant mountains, slowly washing the world in beams so bright it _blinded _Prompto.

There was blue behind that light, white clouds in the distance. The sun was rising.

_Please don't tell me he's gone again. _

With a choked sob, Prompto turned on his heel and ran towards the steps of the castle. Gladio called him from behind, asking him to stop, while Ignis continued to ask what was actually happening- but Prompto didn't care. Practically holding his breath, he sprinted towards the same chamber he had entered for the first time all those years ago, right before they had set forth upon their journey.

The doors were destroyed, barely hanging onto hinges decimated by rust, age and mistreatment. It was easy for Prompto to push his way through, stumbling over himself as he entered the large foyer. However, he kept running, jumping over debris. Practically snapping the elevator button with his force, he ascended to the audience chamber within the throne room, stumbling into corridor walls until he reached what he was looking for.

And he fell to his knees, looking up at the regal figure seated upon the wizened throne of Lucis. The body was still, cheek resting comfortably upon a propped up hand- it seemed so serene, as the sunlight began to wash over his angled features.

His brow wasn't furrowed, and his face was clean. Prompto felt his jaw drop in awe as the light illuminated a crisp man, seated comfortably upon the throne as if he'd been there his entire life, the light smile on his lips betraying the image of a man experiencing the nicest of daydreams.

In that moment, Prompto was prouder than he had ever been in his life.

But the king's eyes were closed. His chest didn't rise. Prompto watched for it, watched for any movement- just the _slightest _indication he might be-

He crawled forward towards the throne, barely breathing himself, reeling from the shock. His fingers met a familiar material- looking down, he saw two small squares of paper on the ground in front of him.

He looked at it, looked at the throne. Stood, shook, teetered up the stairs, placed one square back onto the arm of the throne. Reached out a hand to touch Noctis-

And didn't.

_He's not breathing._

He didn't move until he felt arms around his shoulders, and Gladio and Ignis pulled him down the stairs and into their arms, the two older men crying uncontrollably. Feeling both of the taller figures trembling, he finally let out a strangled scream, the perfect vision of serenity before him blurred by his tears. He shrieked, voice hoarse, eyes still trained upon that resting figure.

"Please," he screamed to the bright blue skies, "please, don't take him away, we just got him back, _please, I love him, give him back-"_

The other two held him close, sobbing against one another as they sat on the floor, but neither man stopped Prompto's cries. Maybe they thought that, now that the skies had cleared, Prompto's heartbreaking pleas would convince the Astrals to bring him home.


	8. Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this brings us to the end. Thank you for reading thus far.

"_I just need one… to take with me."_

_Prompto jumped, surprised. "Oh… Yeah. I get it. Um… You can take whichever you like."_

_The group crowded around, flipping through the stack of photos from days past. No one commented on how Prompto had kept them in his breast pocket for ten years. _

_No one commented on how every picture of Noctis was a little tear-stained._

_Ignis suggested, "How about a shot of us as we set out from Caem?"_

_Noctis found the photo he spoke of, running his thumb lightly over the faces of their old selves, their old comrades. Gladio noticed his interest ."So you're good with this? No regrets?"_

_The younger nodded, giving the remaining photos back to Prompto, to which the blond responded shakily, "Then it's settled. That's the one? No backsies?"_

"_Yeah." He placed the photo in his breast pocket, and turned to push open the doors that would seal his fate. The others nodded resolutely, steeling themselves for what awaited them. _

_Prompto didn't mention the other photo Noctis had tucked underneath the Caem shot, hidden where the others hadn't seen it. He pushed it out of his mind, and followed._

Umbra slowly walked up to him, licked his hand, and lay down by his side, letting out a big yawn.

Prompto looked at the dark creature and curled in on himself, sobs wracking his body. In his lap sat the second photograph Noctis had taken, too quick for the others to see; he had quickly slipped it back into his own pocket, leaving the group shot upon the armrest where Noctis sat in eternal slumber.

It was a selfie Prompto had taken. Of him and Noctis, together, at dawn, light shining into their young faces, smiles wide as their heads rested upon each others' shoulders.

Of all people, he had taken _Prompto_ with him in his last moments, as his strength. And now, he was gone.

Prompto cried, and the sun shone, the world at peace once more.

xXx

-_Umbra curls up by his side. He's no longer breathing. They're sitting in the sunlight, on the steps of the castle. They've won._

_But Prompto is still lonely.-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought of it in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments!


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